Rise of the Artificer
by Masterclem4
Summary: Very early in life, young Harry Potter is denied friends and allies. At this point, he made a decision. ' No one wants to be with me? then I'll make my own allies! ' From then, watch as Harry becomes one of the most feared things in the Multiverse : an Artificer! Rated T for mentions of abuse, violence and probably swearing.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, Masterclem4 here! This is the fisrt story that I've decided to publish here, so please be gentle! I got the idea while reading the Brother's war (Yes, I play MTG, deal with it.) and saw the utter badass that is Urza, and decided that there were not enough artificers on FFN! ###ALSO, VERY IMPORTANT#### English is not my native language, so please pardon my few lapses in the Olde tongue.-Hi! This is just to say that I fixed the spacing and paragraphs!**

Thanks!

 **Chapter 1**

The night was cold in Surrey, and all were tucked in their bed, warm sheets over their bodies, quietly snoring in their sleep. All but one little boy. Alone, with barely enough place to rest his small body, the boy was sobbing, shivering in the dark. At six years old, Harry Potter could be considered old enough to stop fearing the dark but not all six years old were beaten black and blue by their abusive uncle and cousin. They weren't either starved by their aunt and considered less than human by the collective family that decided that he had no right to live.

And so Harry was alone in the dark, with only his sole toy, an old ceramic doll found in the attic during one of his daily tasks. It was a rather pretty doll, with high cheeks and a shiny gloss. Harry did all in his power so that it could stay that way, cleaning the ceramic daily and hiding the doll from his uncle and cousin who without a doubt would have reduced it to bits before his eyes, just to add salt in the wound. The boy, each night, cried to sleep while hugging the only thing he could ever call his own, thinking about his mother that he never knew, thinking about what it would have been to be with her, her scent, the sound of her voice, anything that could bring him a bit of comfort in his dark reality.

What he did not know was that with his feelings, hopes and hurt, he channelled magic into the doll, charging it with energy, because Harry was no ordinary child : he was a wizard! It could have stopped there and the doll would have been nothing more than an artifact exuding calm and comfort, but the child did much more than that, imagining a personality for the doll and unknowingly charging that personality with magic and channel it trough the doll. From this moment, until the end of the night, magic clashed and interacted in the object, changing its essence, and then it all stopped. And she opened her eyes. ''Get up boy!'' yelled aunt Petunia while hammering the cupboard's door with her small, bony fist. ''Today you're making us breakfast so get up and dress!''

Drowsily, Harry got up from his makeshift bed that once was a shoe rack and groggily reached for his glasses hanging from a loose nail near his head. 'Seriously' he thought, 'How many six years old can even cook?' His back was aching, still sore from yesterday's beating, received for having received a peppermint from an old lady at the corner store and not giving it to Dudley.

He was having some very dark thoughts for a six years old, thinking of many ways of killing his despicable relatives in the most gruesome of ways when, suddenly, it all disappeared and he was filled with warmth and joy, and a sensation of calm he rarely felt before. A sudden cry from the kitchen broke the intense feeling and he scrambled to get his things set and storing his doll. '' I will be with you later 'kay?" he said while exiting the cupboard. In the flurry of his movement, a stray thought hit him : 'I could swear she just blinked!'. He quickly discarded the thought and shook his head : Uncle Vernon has been very thorough about this, magic was not real.

Shuffling to the kitchen, his hairs messy as always, he was welcomed by the traditional ''Fix that crow nest, Boy!'' , and set up to work in front of the stove. Soon, the scent of scrambled eggs and the sound of sizzling bacon filled the room as the youngster applied himself not to burn the dish. 'With some luck, I'll be able to take some without them watching' .

Unfortunately, as he tried to sneak a slice of bacon subtly, his walrus of an uncle spotted him and as his face became a nice puce colour, spittle started flying all over the table. ''You ungrateful freak! We welcome you in our house, feed you and dress you and that's how you thank us? By stealing food for which I worked restlessly so I could provide for my family?'' Vernon was now holding Harry with one hand while holding his head with the other. ''Here's the only thing you deserve, freak!'' At that, he took the boy's head and stuck it on the still flaming hot stove. Harry shrieked and trashed, trying to get his face and left eye off of the scorching surface, but was unable to free himself from his uncle's titanic these events, he lost consciousness and his mind welcomed the darkness as his magic was trying, and failing, to heal the third degree burns on his face, the damage being too extensive for the young boy who just had given life to a toy.

Harry awoke with a splitting headache and some lingering pain on the left side of his face. Like a dam breaking under pression, memories flooded the mind of the young boy as he began sobbing uncontrollably. When he finally got a grip on himself, he started warily a quick assessment of his situation. 'Okay, Uncle Vernon pinned me on the stove and I blacked out from the pain'. Frantically, he looked around for the only reflecting item he owned, a shard of once was a body-length mirror. Gulping down his fear, he braced himself as he finally glanced at what he had become.

With a gasp, a lone tear slid from his last intact eye as he contemplated the charred mess that was now his face, reaching to touch the remnants of his skin. Some parts were still red and swollen, but others were completely charred, giving the skin in these areas a colour and texture similar to charcoal. His eye, at first glance, could have been thought intact, if not for the slightly glassy appearance of it.

His eyelid was now nonexistent, as his eyebrow, both of them devoured by the ravaging heat. 'How could the damage be that extensive, it looks like I have been doused in gasoline before...' suddenly recalling something, Harry swore in his head. 'I used oil to cook the bacon, some of it must have spilled over the stove...'

Continuing his inspection, Harry noted that his hair, surprisingly, had been left untouched by the heat, not even a little damaged. 'Could have grown back...' Harry mused, while recalling all those times when Aunt Petunia tried to give him a haircut. Luckily, it always grew back right away, saving Harry from more humiliations. In reality, Harry was quite proud of his hair, his train of thought being that even if they broke him, they would at least never break his hair.

Looking down to the lower portion of his face, he saw that his cheek looked like you could poke a hole trough it with a finger and part of his chin was charred black as well.

''Well, looks like I'm a real freak now aren't I?'' he said bitterly as he traced the scars that would now follow him for the rest of his life. At this moment, serenity and calm washed over him in waves, like an embrace as two small arms circled his arm, as if trying to hug him. Strangely, he wasn't unnerved, basking in the comforting presence that he never before felt.

Calmly, he looked down on the small thing now attached to him and his breath hitched. Disbelief overruled the serenity aura as he met the eyes of his doll, which was peering at him with so much intensity that one could have thought she was staring straight into their soul. After letting the initial shock wane down a bit, Harry shook his head as is chasing away a stray thought.

''...How...how is it even...po-possible? He stuttered, trying to understand how his precious doll suddenly came alive.

''You made me, Father, using your magic. You created my personality, poured magic into it, poured magic into the doll you used to make my body and bound my personality with the doll, giving birth to me.''

Harry was speechless. His doll talked! It, 'No, it's she now!', she also said he had used magic, which was a forbidden word in the Dursley household. ''Magic?'' Magic isn't real.'' He said mechanically, repeating a lesson that his uncle had taken care to imprint in his head thanks to numerous beatings.

Since he was a brilliant child, no thanks to his teachers who all ate in the Dursley's hands since they were ''Upstanding members of the community'' as they put it, Harry looked at the rational answers to the situation.

Option one : Uncle Vernon's beating was more savage than expected and he died in the cupboard due to his grievous wounds.

Option two : He was now mad, driven insane by the pain.

As he liked neither of the options of rationality, Harry decided to take a leap of fate and use the more occult one. ''Okay, so let me get this right. Magic is real, I can apparently use it and used it to make you is that about it?

The doll only nodded.

 **Okay, so here's chapter one, please don't forget to R &R, if some of you are sweethearts, please point any of those nasty conjugation mistakes and weird sentence structures since I REPEAT, ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE! I don't think I can ever stress that enough... anyways, if you have any ideas for pairing, feel free to pm me.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Hey! So here's chapter 2, hope you guys reading me will like it, also thanks to Cbear8 for your review, man it means so much to me. Anyways, character development in this chapter, so not that much action.-So yeah, edited that one too.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own any of J.K Rowling's incredible work, otherwise it would say 'Masterclem4' on all of those shiny book covers. I'd also be rich. Which I am not.**

 **Chapter 2**

Quite some time passed in silence before Harry realized something. ''You need a name.'' he stated, sure that it would quickly become bothersome to always call her ''doll'' or ''you''. ''Agreed, Father. What shall be my name then?'' Harry's mind did a double take as he realized that she had called him father. '' Also, please stop calling me father, I'm way to young to be one'' he replied heatedly. ''As for your name, hmm... let's see... Ah! What about Serenity, or Ren for short? Since you have that weird calming aura, it seems rather fitting won't you agree?''

The newly christened Serenity pondered a bit before nodding happily. ''Yes, I like it! As for my aura, you're right, it calms things around me, making them think clearly, but at a very short range. It is more powerful when I touch the target.'' She mused a bit. ''When you infused your magic into my personality, you probably thought about what it would be like if your mother were to hug you or comfort you. Your magic interpreted it and translated that desire into my aura.''

Harry thought about it for a bit before asking something that was bothering him. ''You keep saying that I infused and poured magic into things, but I don't think I've ever done it conscientiously before. Do you know how it works?'' he asked, hopeful. "Since you are my creator, I only know what you knew at the moment of infusing my personality, since it also contains all of my current knowledge."

Contemplating this new information, the boy concluded that he needed to know more things if he wanted his creations to be more intelligent if he ever did more of them. On the spur of the moment, he decided that he wanted to know what his magic felt like.

Recalling a magician in a fantasy book he read in the school library, he closed his eyes and started to try and meditate. After fifteen minutes of waiting for something to happen, he opened his eyes, a bit put down by his failure. "Why won't it work? I can't feel anything!" Serenity jumped in his lap. "I can help you with that Harry! Try again now." Now surrounded by the calming aura of his doll, he sank into a meditative stance and after a few minutes, he finally felt it, a tingling sensation, warm and comforting.

As he delved deeper in his mind, he found himself floating in a void. suddenly, an orb appeared in the void, floating, waves seemingly rippling through its surface and its blue hue projecting a glow on him and the apparent emptiness. Around it, thousands of lightly glowing sparks wandering aimlessly around the orb. Curious, he reached for the closest spark and took a hold of it. Instantly, memories flooded his mind, images of countless beatings and suffering infusing his very being before he finally let go of it. ''Just like that I think. It's probably our link.'' ''Link?'' ''Of course, I still need your magic to fuel myself, even if it's only a tiny bit.'' ''Ah, okay then.''

At that, Harry went back to exploring. Settling on a video game term he heard in one of Dudley's, he decided to call the orb his 'Mana Pool'. Throwing caution to the wind, he approached his mana pool with his hand. Meanwhile, in the real world, Harry's hand was resting on the floor of his cupboard, began glowing in a blueish light. In his mind, Harry continued to prod the sphere before realizing that it was steadily diminishing in size.

Panicked, he quickly escaped his mind and looked around, fearing that something may have happened. His hand, like the floor, was still bathing in the azure light. Tentatively, after seeing that nothing hurt, he lifted his hand from the ground, the glow around it dimming, before fading completely. ''what happened?'' he asked serenity who was watching the scene, interested. ''It seems that you charged the cupboard's floor with your magic.'' she said, looking around to see if anything else was amiss. ''You should try something with it.'' Harry looked at her like she was mad. ''Aw, come on, have a bit of faith! Aren't you always cold in here? Try and make it hot.'' Harry pondered her suggestion before nodding and placing his palms on the floor.

The blue glow reappeared, flaring back to life and illuminating them. The boy ignored it, instead concentrating on the feeling of comfort that a warm July day brought to him, or the gentle heat of a rock having been bathed in sunlight all day. Soon, the floor's glow dimmed again and Harry opened his eyes again, turning to Serenity. ''Did it work?'' His doll smiled at him. ''I can't sense neither cold nor heat.'' ''Right'' the boy deadpanned. He laid down on the ground, trying to find a trace of heat on the not...so...cold...anymore floor. ''Hey! It worked! Its not cold anymore!'' He laughed. ''It worked. I can do magic!'' And he fell asleep, huddling on the now comfortable surface

Startled to awareness by his uncle's gruff voice, Harry bolted in sitting position. ''Boy, if you're still alive, you better get ready and prepare breakfast. Be fast if you know what's good for you!'' He then stalked away, presumably to the bathroom to shave.

The small child quickly got up, and dressed himself, cursing all the way because of his hand-me-downs which were evidently way too loose, being tailored for a child the size of a small killer whale. Fumbling around in the dark for his glasses, his hand landed on the head of his doll. ''Harry, would you mind taking your hand off, I can't see anything!'' with a surprised yelp, Harry jolted back. ''Serenity! It wasn't a dream then? I can really do magic?'' his eyes, now accustomed to the surrounding darkness, saw the doll's nod as she replied. ''Yes Harry, it's all true, but you should make haste if you don't want to displease your uncle.'' ''Right.'' he said, finally finding his glasses after a few more minutes of searching.

After saying good by to his doll, he exited the cupboard straight to the kitchen. Luckily, neither Vernon nor Dudley were there, only Petunia, who blanched at the moment he entered the room. ''You can't walk around like...like that!'' she screeched before vanishing in a nearby closet.

After a few moments of tossing things around before emerging with the first aid kit, from which she retrieved gauze and pins. ''There.''she said.''It should cover it all! Now no one will see those hideous scars.'' She then set him up to prepare breakfast. While he was cooking, Harry asked how much time had passed since he've been tossed in the cupboard and at his surprise, two days had passed since then.

She then proceeded to pull out a bol of plain white rice from the fridge and give it to him.''Since you seem so hungry that you feel the need to steal from us (Insert glare here), Vernon decide that you'd get two rice bolls a day from now on. He said that if his father was fed like that in Vietnam and survive, then you sure as hell could be too.'' Harry said nothing, too occupied wolfing down his food, incapable of stopping himself.

''You won't go back to school either, so when your chores for the day are done, go somewhere else for the day, I don't want to see you around, just go elsewhere until six so you get your rice and go back into your cupboard. I don't care what you do, just stay outside.'' Harry couldn't believe it. Freedom against a measly chore list? Sure, he was a bit sad for the school part but the things they learned were so boring and he knew them all anyway.

Just when he was about to ask his aunt for the list, Dudley entered the kitchen. ''Hey Freak! why do you look like a mummy?'' He yelled. ''To hide your ugly mug?'' Harry smirked, before replying. ''Well, you're right about that Dudders, I do need to hide my face!'' He then proceeded to remove the bandages from his face, revealing the charred surface of his skin to his cousin, who now looked a bit green. Gingerly putting it back in place, he went to seek his aunt and the list of Freedom.

 **Well, that's all for today! Sorry for the plot instalment, there was not that much action but next chapter will be better I promise! Again, if you liked, please R &R. Until next Chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Hey! So here's chapter 3, hope you guys reading me will like it. Anyways, action in this chapter! An time-skip too. By the way, if I offend any would be physicians, just pm me, I'll correct it.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own any of J.K Rowling's incredible work, otherwise it would say 'Masterclem4' on all of those shiny book covers. I'd also be rich. Which I am not.**

On September First of 1991, the loud chattering drowning platform 9 and 3/4 stopped abruptly when a cloaked figure swept in, a chill spreading in the air. His boots clanking loudly on the stone pier of the station, the form advanced, the crowd parted before him as he made his way to the train before disappearing into it. troubled mutters erupted all around while heat returned to the assembled families.

Meanwhile, on the train, the figure chose a compartment, locking it as he sat. With an exasperated sigh, he took off his hood, revealing an impressive iron mask, inlaid with gold spirals and silver linings. "Nox, didn't I tell you about keeping the chill down?" his shadow stretched upon the opposite wall, taking a vaguely humanoid form. "my apologies, master. I shall strive to correct this problem." The voice, seemingly coming from every shadows in the room, was raspy and frankly disturbing, as if it wasn't supposed to be heard by human beings. Harry sighed again, knowing that Nox would never do anything about it, being the drama queen he was. To him, a good atmosphere for his master was chilly and imposing, end of the line. While the train started moving, the youth let himself sink in the well of his past memories.

-/Flashback, Mai 1989/-

Harry stared dumbfounded at his right arm. On it laid a gauntlet, black like the night, with sharp lines and edges. True, it looked wicked cool and dangerous, but after fighting with the piece of armour for a good thirty minutes straight, he came to the conclusion that it wouldn't move from his arm. 'I must have made a mistake somewhere and it fused with my skin...'he thought, while wondering how he would hide it.

It had been two years since Serenity entered his life, bringing with her a little joy to his unending sorrow. With her calming presence, he had survived two years worth of beating, starvation and belittlement at the hands of his relatives. He also learned a lot of new things about his power, experimenting with his magic. Without any foundations, he first went to the fantasy books, trying to find inspiration. Finding them lacking or unable to imitate the feats in them, he decided to check out the more scientific ones, like Alchemy. He found it interesting, but not quite what he was looking for.

In the end, he found his path in a book on physics, explaining how atoms rearranged themselves to create different elements, or how electrons vibrated to produce heat. For two years, Harry trained his control, to the point of being able to transmute things out of the ground, rearranging the atoms to suit his needs. A junkyard was filled with strange statues made of metal to attest all his hard work, the authorities still pulling their hair trying to figure out where they came from.

Apparently though, his control was not good enough to prevent the fusing of his skin with a freaking gauntlet! The piece of armour was one of Harry's project, a gigantic piece of metal, which had it's weight magically altered, folded on itself so as to resemble a gauntlet. He used such a big piece of metal because he wanted the gauntlet to me more massive, allowing Harry to reform it into a weapon or even an entire armour if he needed! Well now, he needed to hide it, topic on which he'd keep pondering during the time it took to get back to his relative's place. As he trudged his way through the streets, he succeeded in covering his arm a bit using Dudley's enormous hand-me-downs, hoping he wouldn't look too suspicious.

Finally nearing the house, he felt a strange sensation in his stomach. the feeling of an incoming beating. Entering the house as silently as he could, two things hit him. the first on was that the telly was off. The telly was never off in the Dursley household. Never. The second was that he couldn't feel Serenity. He knew it because her Aura covered all the corridor, and he couldn't feel it! Foregoing all stealth, he rushed to the living where the Dursley family was sitting, surrounding a cardboard box. "Here you are you little no-good freak!" Vernon smirked, his second chin wobbling like jelly. "Imagine my surprise when, while searching the cupboard for the money that disappeared from my nightstand yesterday, I found something very unlikely to belong to you." Harry's face drained of colours as Vernon emptied the box on the ground in a mess of powdered ceramic and bits of glass. The boy looked in horror at what was once Serenity, his only source of happiness in the world, crushed by the monster that dared to call himself his uncle.

"You thought you could hide it forever, didn't you, freak?" the walrus was now cackling with glee at the sight of his distraught nephew as he raised from his seat. "Give me a hand son while I punish this little ingrate!" Dudley shot up as fast as his weight permitted it."Of course dad!" With a malicious glint in the eye, Vernon aimed a punch directly at the smaller boy's head. As his fist was about to collide with Harry's head, a metal gauntlet interposed itself, catching the beefy man's fist into it's metallic palm. Looking up, the child met Vernon's eyes and the man shivered. Those eyes were empty, devoid of life, cold. He had seen looks of fear, pain, anger or even disgust in his nephew's eyes, but they never lost that spark that all children have. Today, that spark was nowhere to be seen as Harry said the words that would change his life forever. "Enough." As he uttered those words, he twisted his uncle's arm, the bones dislocating and breaking under the titanic pressure of Harry's gauntlet. He released the man who slumped, bleeding profusely on the carpet as his cousin did the only thing he ever did, which was to try to hit the problem until it disappeared in the ground. Harry caught his head with his armoured hand before none to gently throwing him into the wall, where he crumpled in a boneless heap. Petunia, meanwhile, was huddling in a corner, shaking like a leaf. "You...you monster!" Harry turned to face her, before answering in a lifeless tone."you made me this way." On those words, he turned and left, never to return again.

-/Flashback End/-

Harry returned to reality as a freckled redhead barged in, his eyes searching the face of Harry as if the answer to life was written on his forehead. "You're not Harry Potter, you look like a slimy Slytherin!" And, just as quickly as he entered, he left, banging the door. The masked boy was confused by the redhead who was apparently searching for him. Also, he was sure he had actually locked that door! Oh well, there was weird people everywhere, and he wasn't one to judge. As he was about to settle down for a nap, another person barged into the compartment, with Harry cursing himself silently for forgetting to lock the door again. This time, it was a blond boy flanked by two of the biggest 11 years old Harry had ever seen. The blond kid examined him like the freckled boy did before sneering and turning around. "Come on Crabbe, Goyle. It seems that Potter's not here." As he departed, Harry started to wonder about the sanity of the children of the Wizarding world. Hopefully they weren't all like those two, otherwise he was doomed! Unable to find sleep, he once again dove into his memories.

 **Well, that's all for today!Harry met the Ginger Git and the Blonde Ponce, and we discovered the fate of Serenity! Again, if you liked, please R &R. Until next Chapter!**


End file.
